"Be serious, Damian."
The son of Batman studied the hole, touching lightly the edges.
"No, it is not a grave – not for humans, at least. It can be for a pet, or to hide cans of illegal pesticides, or something like that. It clearly does not seem to be finished. Someone was digging, got scared by something – maybe even your father hiding my stuff last night."
"Well, you got your telephone back. Use it to call the police."
"And risk raising suspicions on all my anti call track devices? No, thank you. Plus, digging is not illegal." He smirked. "It could be nothing, but I have a hypothesis. And, If I am right about it, we have something better than police."
"My dad?"
"Robin and Superboy, doofus."
"I still think Superboy and Robin would be better."
"Yeah, right." He looked up. "Use your advantageous point of view and look for some tire tracks nearby."
"Huh… what?"
"Jump above the trees and find tire marks. They dug this last night. No leaves and such inside."
Jon adjusted his glasses. "I can't. Showing my powers around is too dangerous for my secret iden…"
"Ow, for pete's sake."
Damian Wayne opened his backpack and threw Jon his Superboy jacket and cape, while he put his own mask and gloves.
"You… went through my stuff?"
"Really? After SuperDad took everything I had last night? Really? And it's called readiness."
"… Mom and dad say Superboy appearing too much on this area is as dangerous as showing my powers."
Damian sighed, put his Robin clothes back on his backpack, but slid some items from his belt on his pockets.
"Do they allow lil'Jonny-wonny to walk around?"
"It's not like I follow everything they say. For instance" They started to walk between the trees "They insist I avoid bad company, and here you are."
"Har-de-har. Don't try to get smart, Jon, stay right the way you are."
Jon smiled. Lately, being able to find ways to get under Damian skin became kind of a hobby for him. Anything that makes the Son of Batman get out of his scripted, over-trained reactions. Anything that makes him stop being Robin, even for a moment.
After some minutes walking around. They found the clearance with tire tracks.
Damian looked around for a while.
"I was right, she – or he, but probably she – got scared. See, the space between footprints is short leaving the pickup truck, large coming back. The culprit walked from here, but ran back in."
He noticed Jon was impressed, kneeled close to the tracks.
"Bridgestone, one year of use." Seeing the young Kent expression, he almost laughed.
"I knew you were pulling my leg."
"The tire brand, yes, everything else, no." And started following the tracks until they reached a secondary road.
"So, how do you know it's a woman?"
"I don't. You can sometimes guess it is a she if the shoe is narrow, not the case here. But the driver is light enough to be a female."
"How do you know the weight?"
"The marks edges and depth are similar to yours, a kid. Can you see any houses nearby?"
"I don't have super-vision yet."
"*tt*" Damian shook his head.
"All my vision allow me to do is" He poked lightly with his finger a specific place on Damian's back, who barely managed to swallow an yelp. "That cracked rib is not fully healed."
"Gee, thanks, doc. Let's go back. Our suspect will return this night, and we will be waiting."
"How do you know?"
"She or he didn't finish the job. And they will not risk wasting more time digging another hole. Too scared for that."
"And what make you think I will…"
"So, keep telling me about that Goku guy. He died like your father…"
"It's completely different. Goku died for real, and…"
"Ah, like me."
"Agh. And, hey, when did we changed subjects?"
The day was surprisingly uneventful. Marathons of Dragon Ball and One Piece interrupted by Lois Lane who, like every mother, complained about the kids being inside with that sun outside, Jon wanting to play basketball, Damian pressing for martial arts training, until nighttime. Damian complained a lot about having his stuff seized again, with no success. Once in bed, Damian produced paper and pen and wrote a quick plan, topped with the phrase "Quiet, so your father does not hear."
Jon shook his head, and wrote "I don't like it", just to see Damian was ready for that answer and showed him a sketch of a chicken wearing a cape with an "S" on it.
Jon wrote "Go out on your night clothes?" Damian scribbled quickly "Readiness" and opened the window.
After 50 meters, Jon understood. Nested between some trees, a camouflaged backpack with the complete Robin uniform inside. Still, they were too close to his house, and he was wearing his uniform, the red bright cape very noticeable even at this distance. He looked at the house, worried. It was just a fraction of second, so he was surprised to look back at his friend and see him lacing his boots, already dressed in every other part of his uniform.
He gestured to Superboy, and both ran to the place they found earlier the day.
They stood on top of a tree, waiting. Robin has eyes fixed on the hole and surroundings.
"You can relax. I can hear if a car stops nearby."
"Roger that."
"How can you change clothes that fast?"
"Father is even faster. Readi…"
"Yeah, yeah. I got that."
"Speaking of clothes, I will make sure you have a more discreet cape."
"Thanks, I like mine."
"Like has nothing to do with it. Think about the success of the missions."
"Missions. Is it all about missions for you?"
"Talk less, hear more."
"Seriously, Damian,…"
"Robin."
"When was the last time you relaxed?"
"Grandfather taught me to meditate. I can compress eight hours of sleep in two."
"No, I mean…" Superboy sighed "Car."
"Right. Silence."
After a few minutes, they saw the light of a lantern dancing between the trees, focusing here and there, until focusing on the hole. A feminine figure appeared, balancing a large bag, shovel and lantern on her arms. Jon stood there, he couldn't imagine what wqs on Damian mid's, or what he could do. He saw, in a glance, a Robin grim, followed by the Son of Batman leaping with a
"Prepare for trouble and make it double!"
Superboy almost felt from the tree, but got himself on time to see Robin hold the woman on an armlock. He used his vision on the bag, but couldn't understand what he was seeing.
"Just some old jackets and such."
"Jackets with blood in then. Your boyfriend, brother or such did the job on that pawn shop, right, lady? He and his friend asked you to get rid of the evidences while they ran aw… wait, Superboy, no gun?"
Too late Robin saw the revolver on the women other hand, and heard the shot being fired in Jon's direction. A kick on the wrist by Robin sent the gun flying away.
"You should know better than shot anyone with an `S` on their chest. Now, you wouldn't help your guy not knowing where they ran for." He pressed her arm a bit more, making the woman scream in pain. "If you like your arm in one piece, tell me where."
"Robin…"
He pressed more. Jon could see the her muscles bending in an unnatural way, small lines appearing on her humerus, and a place name being muttered between tears.
The boy wonder smiled managed to get the shop robbers names and tied her on a tree, before turning to Superboy.
"Now we call the police. They'll take from here."
"Was that… necessary?"
"I was right, job done." Damian was going to playfully jab Jon in the shoulder, when he noticed something wet and dark running down his arm. "Let's get out here."
At a secluded place, Jon was blushing hearing the cascade of syllables going out of Damian's mouth, while he patched his wound.
"It's barely a scratch. She practically missed."
"You're supposed to be bullet-proof, doofus."
"I am! … sometimes. Ouch-ouch-ouch. Be careful."
"Great. 'I am invulnerable on occasion' must be the most stupid and dangerous thing I've ever…"
"What were you saying just now?"
"You don't want to know. I was cursing."
"Well, I got that from your expression, but not the words."
"Arabic. People often revert to their native language under stress. But you are right, it's almost just a skin-deep wound."
Robin got his phone and gave the emergency the facts in a very concise way, without wasting any word or second. Jon got closer.
"You surprised me there."
"With my detective skills?"
"Quoting Pokémon."
"Just to show you I am not impervious to pop culture."
"I will start calling you Pidgey instead of Robin."
Both laughed some.
Can we go home now?"
"Do you really want to?"
"What do you mean?"
"Do you have any doubt that Superdad of yours heard everything after the gunshot? In fact, I am surprised he…"
The next thing Damian saw and felt was a powerful hand grabbing him by the ear, and noticed Jon's fate was the same.
"As I said before, it's Mr. Kent for you. And boys, get ready for a looooong talk."